Now then, to work!
"Claire, I am leaving here the day after to-morrow."
"Yes?"
"Have you no idea, cannot you guess what it is that I have come to say to you?" He moved nearer to her and for a moment rested his hand on her arm.
"I have no idea," she told him with great gravity of manner.
"I have come to ask you to be my wife. Ah, wait before you bid me be silent. I love you—you surely cannot have failed to see that?—I love you, Claire!"
"Do not," she interrupted, putting up a warning hand. "I cannot hear you."
"But you must. Forgive me, you shall. I love you as I never loved any woman in my life, and I am asking you to be my wife."
"You do me much honour, Lord Quinton," she returned—and was it his fancy that made it seem to him that her lips curled a little?—"but the offer you make me I must refuse."
"Refuse!" There was almost amusing wonder and a good deal of anger in his tone and look.